Wondering. (verse)

I wonder at the Northern Lights. I wonder at the stormy sea.

And even more than nature’s sights I wonder if you love me.

I wonder at the day and night, and at the birds all flying free

The bees that sting, the sharks that bite, and wonder if you love me.

For as, together, we delight in all the wonders that we see

I’m daring, now, to hope you might stop wondering and love me!

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Competitions

Writing Magazine came yesterday and I was hoping for a new Year Planner but there wasn’t one for 2019. However, there were a host of competitions and I resolved to enter some, even if they were not free!

I have started with a poetry competition but I had to find one that had not been published so I used one old one and wrote one new one – in completely different styles. I looked at the winning poem from last year and it was freestyle but I usually write in rhyme.

I started tearing up old papers, from as far back as 2015. I’m afraid I am a terrible hoarder. Being on committees meant I had loads of minutes. I don’t know why I kept them. I had to pull out the stories I had written and the reviews I had had and shred the rest.

I have left Twitter. If I can’t use the time saved writing I’ll have to use it trying out recipes from my new book, or tearing up paper! It’s better than tearing my hair out trying to think up a new novel plot. If I can convince myself that poetry is the way to go I might cheer up. What we all need is recognition. Hey ho!youth-active-jump-happy-40815.jpeg

Treading water

Now we are in 2019 I feel I should be starting something new. I have completed my talk and once I decide on the readings to accompany it I will be ready to try it out.

The other task I wanted to complete was to publish a poetry anthology, either on my own or with another member of the Sea Scribes but that needs finding and sorting an I’m not in the mood.

A twitter writer suggested turning Christmas cards into book marks, but my book marks are part of my marketing strategy so giving away alternatives wouldn’t work.

I wish all my followers from all over the world a Happy New Year. I am grateful for any comments and always ready to contribute to discussions if I know anything about the subject.bookwormclipart

Christmas 2018 verse

Santa surveyed the map of the world stretched out before him, a canvas unfurled.

This year, he told Rudolf, we’ll have a new route, but I’ll still be dressed up in white fur and red suit.

We are going to travel o’er mountain and hill, stopping first in the South, where I’m certain we will

Enjoy the warm night times and fly through the air, giving our gifts to the good children there-

From the East to the West , as the evening draws on we’ll spread the good cheer as we gallop along,

From deserts to jungles, high up in the air, and then we’ll swoop down with those parcels to share,

But as we turn Northward I fear we shall find that we’ve been forgotten, our time left behind-

As nations are squabbling about who’s the best and marching and shouting in bright yellow vests.

There’s fires in the streets and the children all cower, afraid in their beds, still awake at this hour.

As countries divide and the people despair I wonder if any still know that we’re there.

I wonder if stories of an infant birth, designed to bring peace to the people of earth

Can be heard in the clamour of hatred and fear, if the presents we bring will remind them, this year

That nothing is gained by ignoring the news that the whole world relies on the different views

Of the people on earth being able, one day, to agree what is best, so to them all I say

Be kind and be peaceful, there’s plenty to do to keep this world beautiful and safe for you-

Look after the land and the rivers and seas and, at Christmas time, be loving and giving, please.

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Losing the plot

It seems to me I’m stupid, dim witted, dozy, daft

As age begins to rob me of the essence of my craft.

The gift I have of language, developed over years

Is gradually eroding, one of my greatest fears.

I try in vain to capture, and use, the perfect word

But similes escape me, fly, like a mocking bird.

A river of my best ideas flows gently out to sea

A metaphor for loss that shows what’s happening to me.

No longer with the freedom to choose, invent and write

Vocabulary fading, my mind losing the fight

To cling on to my memory, to produce and create

A work that is commended, but I fear it is too late.bookwormclipart

Requested Verse

I had a challenge from the man in the mobile library when I was bemoaning the fact that rhyming poetry was unfashionable. ” No-one writes rhyming verse any more,” I said and then discovered at least two authors who are doing it successfully. He replied, ” Nobody has written a poem about a mobile library,” How could I resist?

You don’t need a flying carpet or a ship that sails the sea

For every kind of magic’s in the Mobile Library.

Let your imagination feed on tales from yesterday

Or solve a crime or find a love to wash your cares away.

You’d like a book with big, bold print? There’s plenty here to take

And picture books and paperbacks a thirst for knowledge slake.

Or in the Land of Might have Been, when you’ve a book to try

Give your imagination wings and, as a wordbird, fly.bookwormclipart